


Thirty God-Damn Dicks

by hello_imasalesman



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Humor, M/M, No main story spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-21
Updated: 2015-11-21
Packaged: 2018-05-02 17:27:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5257295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hello_imasalesman/pseuds/hello_imasalesman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Have you ever had sexual relations with any species considered non-human?”</p><p>In which Sole Survivor is going to murder Hancock, or what happens when you ask if the SS has had relations with any non-human species with Hancock around. (Humorous prequel to Boss Around.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thirty God-Damn Dicks

Sole sits back on the gurney, sighing impatiently, his leg bouncing. He doesn’t like doctors, doesn’t like doctors office, and he sure as hell has realized he doesn’t like the Brotherhood enough to put up with this bullshit.

The Brotherhood Doctor looks up from his clipboard, arching an eyebrow. “I apologize if I’m boring you.”

“I’m sorry I’m even here.” Sole says, faux-chipper, his face sour. Cade shakes his head, tapping his pen with irritation against his clipboard.

“Listen, this is almost done. Your physical went very well, this questionnaire is almost done—“ He pauses to check something off on the paper. Behind him, Hancock is idling about, trying not to touch anything that would get him shot. He hasn’t strayed long from Sole the entire time they’ve been on the Prydwen. He’s not stupid; he knows, if given the chance, any one of these hopped up bucket heads would gladly turn him to smoldering ash. He’s made himself useful by admiring the clean, chem-making implements the Doctor has, and trying to make Sole laugh. So far, he’s absolutely failed to do anything other than imagine what a nice setup like this could do for Goodneighbor. He glances over the good Doctor’s shoulder to look at the clipboard; from his smirk, he probably checked off something that said _incredibly cantankerous_ or _not easy to brainwash_. 

“Alright, last one.”

“Shoot.” Sole says, a little too quickly. He just wants to get this done with, see if the Brotherhood have any way to help him with this damn chip, and then–

“Have you ever had sexual relations with any species considered non-human?”

Sole feels his throat constrict as Hancock’s eyes widen, than narrow, and he has to turn his face away from Sole’s own burning one to try and stifle any laughter that might threaten to bubble up.

His first reaction is defensive: “Are you serious?”

Cade frowns, somehow stoic. “All of my questions are serious.”

Sole opens his mouth to speak. Hancock, securely hidden behind the doctor, is holding his hand in a loose ring, jerking it towards his mouth; with each jerk, he pushes his tongue into the opposite cheek, and Sole realizes he’s going to _kill him_. He closes his mouth, suddenly at a loss for words, trying to pull his eyes away from the display. “Uh—ok. But, uh, seriously, how many people actually do that?”

The doctor tuts. “You would be surprised.” Hancock has changed positions now, his hands holding an imaginary torso, his humping the air. By the look on his face, he can’t tell if he’s trying to be hilarious or seductive, or some terrible combination that’s actually bringing heat to the tips of his ears as if he was some school-age kid. “The amount of wastelanders who have answered yes to that.”

Sole clears his throat, eyes darting up to Hancock, then back to the Doctor. “Yeah?”

“Given, everyone has their vices, but some are much more dangerous to the common good than others. Robots, synths, super mutants, mirelurks, and—“

Cade turns around. Hancock is standing perfectly still. He flashes a roguish smile and a little wave, fingers waggling.

Cade continues, “Ghouls,” And turns back around. Hancock resumes humping the air, though they’ve turned into slow, long thrusts, coupled with some pantomimed ass smacking. Sole’s sure the imaginary person he’s fucking is quite enjoying it, unlike himself.

“Well, uh.” Oh. There’s two imaginary dicks that he’s jerking now, apparently, and the one on the left is _gigantic_ , if the way Hancock’s hand is spread so far apart indicates anything. He’s a military man, it’s not like he’s never experienced a barrage of dick jokes when trying to speak to a superior officer, but there’s something about Hancock doing it in this stupid goddamn air blimp filled with people who would rather him dead that’s getting him nervously flustered. “Look, I’ve never done anything like that.”

The doctor nods, jotting a few notes down. “I figured as much. You’ve only recently left the vault.”

Oh _no_. The imaginary dicks have come, and apparently, they never let Hancock know. He staggers as quietly as one can stagger, clutching at his face, and then his heart. Of course, they were deadly dicks, poisonous, non-human dicks. Sole feels the corners of his traitorous mouth twitching, and he contorts his face to try and keep the laughter down. “You don’t seem the type. Of course, knowing you’re from the Vault, you’ve passed this test with flying colors.” Hancock grips at his throat, his face twisted in a silent scream of death as he sinks below the counter, out of sight.

That does him in; Sole tries to hold it back, but a snort escapes him and he’s suddenly doubled over with uncontrollable laughter, his sides shaking. Cade startles, then turns around, then back towards Sole. “Excuse me—where is that-“

There’s a bang, as Hancock hits his head hard on the lip of the counter, and curses; it just sends Sole into another wheezing fit of laughter as the ghoul pops up, his smile sheepish. “Just dropped my contact, doc, don’t mind me.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm Hancock trash. Check out my tumblr [civilization-illstayrighthere](http://civilization-illstayrighthere.tumblr.com) for more trash. Thanks for any comments or kudos!


End file.
